“You know how they say once you've hit the lowest place to go there's nowhere left to go but up? That's a lie; sure you can't go down but you can remain stationary, never going any where in life. That's where I am right now.”
The short end of the stick always comes with a sharpened edge. Maybe I’m too familiar with carving labels into my layered personality to notice everything just fell apart (and somehow Im still smiling.) I’m still talking to myself, because no one else knows what the fuck I mean when I say the chalkboards are melting into black pools at my curling toes, and pencils are getting smaller and smaller until they finally don’t exist. I can’t erase myself. I can’t sharpen the dull folds of my body that suffocate my friends and family in fountains of false identities. Fountains where we are sponges soaking in our own self absorbed lives (until we are rung dry…)
I tell myself that in the end this is all about control. It’s all about knowing that I’ll be the only one to die with secrets between each bone; a buried body; to prevent my scattered ashes from being inhaled through other lunges. When I take my life; I want it to end there. I want to be swallowed by the black holes of your eyes, and learn just how empty they really are.
One upon a time, I was promised amazing muse when things went wrong. So I figured after all that’s happened… I’d have more to say than this… instead I’m just crying on the keys repeating the word “please,” and wondering how I ever became this pathetic.
Author notes
Im ninety percent sure this isn’t good enough. Ever loved someone so bad, your bones imploded and you couldn’t control what you were saying? Ever leapt off the edge only to feel like it was a plunge into torn pages off everything unwritten?
In a list
A contest entry
- The Sky is Alive by sweetpearl.
2975 points, ended July 29, 2007, 26 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - oh, to just disappear... by CarCrashHumor.
1500 points, ended August 15, 2007, 48 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - contest: love letter by Diseased Mind.
3500 points, ended August 11, 2007, 33 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - ♥ I can't let go of this dream, I can't breathe. by forbidden-colour.
300 points, ended August 22, 2007, 12 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - I'm sick of the same old crap! by Trent plus pen.
1100 points, ended September 13, 2007, 51 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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This blew my mind. I'm feeling just like this right now. FUCKING amazing the way I relate to your poems! Jane
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This
is
in-
fucking-
credible.
Seriously.
I'm like,
speechless.
<3 -
"When I take my life; I want it to end there. I want to be swallowed by the black holes of your eyes, and learn just how empty they really are."
That part was just a shining star for me,
Drawn to it totaly.
I really liked this, It's simplicity is beautiful because of the meaning behind it.
Finalist doll.x.[:
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I want to cry ... but I am so empty inside right now I highly doubt a tear could shed out my eye. This hit me on a really personal level, especially after what happened last night. It feels as if it were written by me for me ... it still amazes me that someone miles away could write something that I can relate to so much. The struggles may be different, but the emotion is the same. We are nothing to ourselves now. Just disappointment and shame.
"“You know how they say... - ...That's where I am right now.”"
--I like how it started in quotations ... as if you were talking to someone else and then later just kind of went into your own talking to yourself way. There is no such thing as "lowest" ... because you feel as if you are there and then get knocked down another peg and it keeps going and going. The lowest point is death. Death by suffocation of someone strangling the life out of you until you finally give up. When you give up ... completely ... you have reached the lowest you can get. And the feeling isn't there anymore, because you are no longer breathing. Your heart is no longer. Your conscience is no more. Nothing. Death completes your circle. You run around so long never reaching that point to enclose everything you feel. When those two ends meet because of death ... the circle of sadness will weigh over your grave and no one could walk above you without feeling it's wrath.
"The short end of the stick... -...(until we are rung dry)"
--there is no way to go back ... no way to fix it. Your light is getting dimmer and the tunnel is getting narrower. You'll never reach the end. The poetic phrase "I can't erase" to "dry" are astounding hurtful but beautiful. You can cover up who you truly are ... it never works. Eventually it will come out. I know this because I've been there. I covered up my depression for years but now, everyone sees it because I can't hide it anymore. My face tells it all - my core is rotting, my lungs are stiffening. Eventually I will turn to coal. And yes, I still smile at times ... and yes, it may be temporary happiness but if you look hard enough and see past that part-time feeling, you will see what's behind me. A shadow of nothingness. A body whose walls dye themselves in dark colours of grey so they will never have to feel hues of enlightenment. Because I have accepted this is who I am. When I bleed, it's bright, but only because of the way the light reflects off of it. In the dark, you cannot see in colour.
"I tell myself that in the end... - ...learn just how empty they really are."
--I like this stanza because it feels like you are coming to realization. I can only hope that when life does end there is no more suffering. Death has got to be better than life, in situations such as this. Our skeletons are not meant to be abused physically, we've seen this many times. People can tell when you are bruised on the outside. But when you're purpling on the inside, no one can tell and for some reason, nobody wants to see it. It seems people think that physical abuse is much more incredible than emotional. You cannot heal emotionally. The scars are endless. It turns you into something you never thought you'd be. You become a monster. I have completely changed who I am this year because of the sadness. It has overwhelmed me. I love the idea of dying with secrets implanted in your skin, your body, soul ... it's amazing. You're so flawless.
"Once upon a time... - ...how I ever became this pathetic."
--people tell you that when you're down your writing is best ... that is not a compliment. We, the ones who are down, do not want to be here. YET we clamp our hands down on it as if we cannot let go. Because once you've been there and there that long, you are afraid of everything different. You feel as if you'll be rejected. Acception to happiness and light ... feels minimal. I know what it's like to sit at your keyboard and try to type out emotions but all you can do is cry. This was a very emotional piece and it made me very emotional. I don't know if I've ever thought this much about a piece before ... possibly a few times, but they are rare.
I would like to leave you with some optimism ... but that is not who I am. And that is not who you are. My reference now will be strange, but relevant. In the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time there is a temple called the Forest Temple. In that temple there is a crooked hallway and it fucks everything up. Things are upside down ... twisted. When Link, the main character, shoots an eye above the hallway ... it straighens out and everything is back to normal. What I can only leave you with is that I hope you find that eye and that you fix it. Because no one else in your life can do it for you. I hope this comment means something to you because your poem meant something to me.
PS. sorry it took so long to comment.
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This is good... damn...
this is better than good... this is amazing... I almost looked away because this was prose, but reading through, it's so poetic!
good luck in your contests, hun
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You are simply amazing.
And I am here for you.
Durr.
=] -
this piece really scared me because it's so honest and truthful. it's really raw. I think you captured the true reality of life in this piece. We are all living a pointless lie.
even though this was sad and brutally honest, it was still very beautiful. It continues to hang in my mind so long after I've read it.
xoxo
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"chalkboards are melting into black pools at my curling toes, and pencils are getting smaller and smaller until they finally don’t exist. I can’t erase myself"
"we are sponges soaking in our own self absorbed lives (until we are rung dry…
"
"I tell myself that in the end this is all about control. It’s all about knowing that I’ll be the only one to die with secrets between each bone;"
"I’m just crying on the keys repeating the word “please,” and wondering how I ever became this pathetic."
wow this was really sad honey.....
I'm not sure I want to tell you I liked it because... well I love you.
but I did. and it was so well-described.
thanks. &hearts
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holy..
hunnie that was so damn heart wenching.
i dont know what to say. i want to give you a hug though..
you too damn beautiful to hurt this bad.
<3 i love you much
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One upon a time, I was promised amazing muse when things went wrong.
haha so true
its really good
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I can always look forward to your imagery, doll. Wonderful like always. And I do know what you mean by loving someone too much-- believeee me. I liked how you said "the pencils keep getting smaller" and then, straight up, you follow that line with "I can't erase myself."
Awesomeawesomeawesome.
ily. ♥ animated
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You know how they say once you've hit the lowest place to go there's nowhere left to go but up? That's a lie; sure you can't go down but you can remain stationary, never going any where in life. That's where I am right now.”
The short end of the stick always comes with a sharpened edge. Maybe I’m too familiar with carving labels into my layered personality to notice everything just fell apart (and somehow Im still smiling.) I’m still talking to myself, because no one else knows what the fuck I mean when I say the chalkboards are melting into black pools at my curling toes, and pencils are getting smaller and smaller until they finally don’t exist. I can’t erase myself. I can’t sharpen the dull folds of my body that suffocate my friends and family in fountains of false identities. Fountains where we are sponges soaking in our own self absorbed lives (until we are rung dry…
oh sweetie tell me why your so talented
i say that every comment but its true!
ily babydoll keep up the brillant poems!
<3
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THANK YOU. LoVE You!
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This made my breath catch. Beautiful baby.
You have such a way of writing things that is absolutely amazing.
=]
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The short end of the stick always comes with a sharpened edge.
that line was so perfect i caught my breath when i read it.
I want to be swallowed by the black holes of your eyes, and learn just how empty they really are.
yes yes yes . this is how feel about him.
jeez girl this was prefect and wonderful and all those good things.
you wrote the poem ive been trying for days. <3
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"I tell myself that in the end this is all about control. It’s all about knowing that I’ll be the only --->to one to<---- die with secrets between each bone;"
you have an extra "to" in there. I just noticed it.
But oh baby, I know this feeling, and this poem just screamed at me. I loved the raw emotion in this, and I love the way you put your words. this is amazing doll face. it hurt my heart, and you dont deserve any of this pain.
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Thanks doll. you rock.
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"because no one else knows what the fuck I mean when I say the chalkboards are melting into black pools at my curling toes, and pencils are getting smaller and smaller until they finally don’t exist."
I understand. <3
"I tell myself that in the end this all about control."
Should it be, 'this is'?
"When I take my life;'
Oh, babe, I hope you don't...
Gosh this was stunning.
You write so profoundly that you continuously baffle me with your excelence.
Wonderful job,
again it's amazing! <3
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